Never Truly Forgotten
by CynnieD
Summary: No matter how many times Canada was; talked over, looked through or mistaken for his brother, there was at least one person in the entire world who would always remember him. Canada & Ottawa Fluff! Happy Canada Day!


The World Conference could have gone worse.

That's at least what Canada was trying to convince himself of.

Look on the bright side, he thought! England kinda, sort-of noticed him this time. He should be ecstatic. A complete win for him, right? There was… one caveat, though.

The hard-nosed Brit noticed him! But, there's a high probability that he mistook Matthew for some plucky intern. Of whom he asked to go on a coffee/tea run to the nearest cafe.

Which he did by the way.

But, cup half full, right?

Well, his coffee cup wasn't after some other Country drank most of it. Albeit, not before declaring it to be ungodly sweet and throwing it out. Apparently, no one else can handle several shots of maple syrup in their morning coffee.

_Coward._

Matthew's head thudded against his steering wheel. He and Kuma sat in his old, pickup truck. Inhaling the leathery scent as he rested. Trying to get a head start on mentally prepare himself for tomorrow because—_oh, god_—he has to go back. And there was no amount of Letterkenny reruns that could soothe him after that hellscape.

What was on his to-do list for the next day, you ask?

1\. Somehow maneuver through his current problems with China. Maybe try and get him to ease up on Hong Kong.

2\. Sit in a meeting where America and Mexico argue non-stop for an hour.

3\. Figure out whether England is actually leaving or not and how horrible it's gonna be. Which it absolutely is gonna be some level of horrible.

4\. Attend several bilateral meetings. Where the other country is almost always late. Because "I just couldn't for the life of me remember who I was going to be meeting. Sorry about that." _It's okay. __**It's most definitely not okay.**_

5\. Oh, and try and kickstart a "Committee to Save the World Order". Where their only goal is to keep the world from going to shit. Because, apparently, everyone expects him to be the moral epicentre of their world. Even though no one remembers him long enough to not_ steal and throw out his__** goddamn coffee.**_

But, at least he was home now. Where he could curl up in his bed and forget about his troubles. Where stacks of pancakes are a healthy coping mechanism. Where he was safe from his peers' collective short-term memories of his presence.

"Who are you?" A familiar voice squeaked out from the backseat.

Nevermind. Perhaps, home wasn't so great after all.

His neighbourhood heard a soft beeping as he hit his head against his horn. Again and again.

He should stick up for himself, right? If not with his own companion then who would he ever? Tension increased in his shoulders as his digits gripped his wheel. Mustering up any and all fury he had. Yep, he was gonna give Kuma a what for!

But, then, in a single moment, any inkling of agitation was gone in a huff. His shoulders sagged, fingers flexed, and a deep sigh escaped him.

God, he was pathetic.

He turned to see his polar bear buddy staring back at him. A dejected chuckle fell from his lips as he answered, "Who cares?"

The brisk night seeped through his suit as he stood under his porch light. Digging through his pockets for his keys before both he and Mr. Kumajiro fell asleep on the spot.

Matthew didn't even realize something was off at first. As soon as his front door clicked open, he turned his brain off and went on autopilot. He toed off his shoes, slipped off his suit jacket and set down his briefcase before heading to the kitchen. His feet dragging as he puttered around. Making a very, very late dinner for the two of them. Seal for Kuma and shreddies for himself.

He was just about head upstairs and crash into his bed when he noticed the lights on in his living room. A soft golden glow emanating from the frosted glass on the doors. Did Maddie leave the lights on? He thought he got her out of that habit.

Guess not.

With a small sigh, he shuffled over to the room. Munching on his "dinner" cereal as he entered.

Hmm…

This isn't how his living room usually looks.

Blankets were strung up from the ceiling. All varying colours and patterns. Most of which he remembers buying. Starred fairy lights dotted the edges of the fabric. Giving the off the soft glow from before. Along with the crackling fire not too far away. In front of which was Maddie's laptop sitting on the coffee table. Playing what seems to be We are Stars. Canadian artists. Good choice.

"What do you think all this is, Kumalilo?" He asked even though he knew the most basic answer. There was a pillow fort in his living room. The concept hadn't crossed his mind in decades. Hell, maybe even centuries. Forgoing his childish ways when his brother sought out independence.

But, why was there one here now?

Kuma pushed past him and made his way over to the fort's opening. Sniffing around and pawing at the blankets until he found what he was looking for.

"I don't know. But, I think it has something to do with her," Kuma said before crawling into the fort. Canada followed his bear the opening.

Pulling back the sheets revealed an amazing, other world. Pillows and more blankets were strewn across the floor. Making it look like the comfiest place to rest ever. A box of forty timbits called his name. Along with the bowl of maple popcorn and bottles of Péché Mortel. Was this heaven?

And then there was the 'her' Kuma was talking about.

She laid in the back of the structure. Her golden locks pulled up into a messy bun. Light freckles dusted her cheeks and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses sat askew on her face. One of his favourite sweaters almost engulfed her. Not that she seemed to care. No, the engulfing was the point. Yes, Madeleine had always liked to exist in oversized clothing.

Like father, like daughter.

The chances of this being heaven just went up.

"Who are you?" Kuma asked as he poked at her cheek. His stomach sank. And the chances shot into the depth of the Marianas Trench. While his bear forgot his name on the regular, his precious girl's name had always stuck. This wasn't going to be a regular thing, was it?

Oh, no.

No.

NO!

He could handle people forgetting him. At this point, it was a given in any situation. No one was going to remember him. Disappointed but, not surprised. But, for someone to forget Maddie? His petit geai bleu?

The thought made him sick.

He had made sure no one ever would. Kept far from any and all Nations for the first part of her life. If they couldn't remember him she was a non-starter. And when that got inconvenient, he sewed some version of her name into everything she wore.

Very cute, right?

Yeah, it was until she grew up and became a very, embarrassed teenager. Much less cool. By the time WW2 came and she realized she wanted to help, he gave her a cooler nickname. Blue Jay. She had loved flying planes as much as he did, it just fit.

And, for his effort, it seemed to have worked.

Until now.

Betrayed by the bear.

Madeleine's amethyst eyes fluttered open as Kuma booped his nose with hers. A big, sleepy smile graced her face.

"I'm Ottawa, Mr. Kumakiko," She said, fingers running his soft fur. Kuma mumbled a soft 'oh, right' before snuggling into her generous pets. Her gaze then fell upon him. An even bigger smile on now, "Your back, eh? Long time no see, Papa. Sorry about not greeting you at the door. Sleep took me hostage."

At least… she didn't seem too affected too badly by the screw-up. He's definitely going to have a stern conversation with his companion.

"No problem, Sugar Plum. May I come in?" He asked, forgoing his "dinner" on the table before crouching down to see them better.

Her eyes lit up and she threw her arms open. Answering, "Of course, Papa! It's for you, after all."

"This is quite the feat, eh," He said as he clamoured into the fort. Crawling through the sea of blankets before settling in beside her, "Why?"

"I put two and two together," She said, gaze focused on her fingers raking through Kuma's fur. "Whenever you come back from World Conferences you're always so sad. I can see how going there drains you. No one remembering you and all. So, after a long day of enduring that I wanted you to know that there will always be someone in your corner."

She turned to him, eyes filled with love and determination, "Me."

"Oh," His throat tightened as tears began to well. He was the luckiest guy in the world, wasn't he? In a flash, he swept Ottawa into his arms, "Thank you so much, this means everything to me. I love it. All of it. Merci, merci, Madeleine."

She gladly wrapped her arms around him as well. The familiar scent of maple and pine filling her nose.

"Oh, and something else, Papa," What else could she possibly have done? "I also may have asked Moscow to hack into their phones. And set a bunch of reminders of their meetings with you. So, that they won't be late." She quickly murmured.

Canada paused his praises to cock his brow. Concerned, he asked, "Quoi?"

"Well…"

"You approved of Russia's daughter hacking into several nation's phones?" He said slowly. Trying to process all the implications. Even though she's his intelligent and thoughtful girl, she's still a teenager. "You didn't see huge security risk there?"

"Don't worry, I then asked Tallinn to make sure she'd never be able to do it again." She assured, squeezing into the hug a bit more.

A sigh fell from him as he rested his cheek on the top of her head, "She better not. Or else we're all so screwed."

"I promise," She said, pulling back and sticking her pinky out. He caught it with his and squeezed tight.

"It's a promise then."

"Now," A yawn escaped her, "Sleep?"

"Don't even have to ask." He said, as his sights locked onto the box. Which was being rummaged through by a guilty looking polar bear, "Kuma, don't eat them all!"

Kumajiro apologized, crumbs of sugar and sprinkles all over his muzzle. He brought the box over, nudging it towards them. Their laughs jingled out as the trio settled in to rest. Bundled up in blankets and cushioned by the many pillows. All curled up with each other in their own tiny cuddle pile. Listening to the all Canadian playlist she put on. Popping timbits in their mouths every so often.

Soon, sleep called for them. Eyes were getting heavy and yawns were becoming more frequent.

Sleepily, Ottawa whispered into his chest, "Je t'aime, Papa."

"Je t'aime, Maddie," He whispered back. Pressing a kiss onto her forehead, "Tellement, mon petit geai bleu."

Soft snores drifted into his ears soon after. Sleep was about to whisk him away too, a thought popped into his mind. After all this, he realized,

_Oh, right._

_She's the one who cares._


End file.
